


Souls of a Feather

by theauthorandtheartist



Series: Four Swords and Eight Brothers [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Family Dynamics, Found Family, Four puts on the FD mask, Freedom, Gen, Imprisonment, Loneliness, Masks, Maybe - Freeform, Wrongful Imprisonment, shenanigans ensue, should I continue this?, we'll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthorandtheartist/pseuds/theauthorandtheartist
Summary: His prison was made of wood. Their prison was made of flesh. The only difference? They had access to the keys, while he didn't.
Relationships: Blue Link & Green Link & Red Link & Vio Link, Fierce Deity & Link (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Four Swords and Eight Brothers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938187
Comments: 71
Kudos: 273





	Souls of a Feather

His prison was made of wood. 

Wood walls, wood floors, wood ceiling. There were no windows nor doors, merely knots and splinters and _oh so much wood_ . He didn't even know what _kind_ it was, only that it was there, it was impossible to break through, and it carved easily under the blade of his helix sword whenever he was bored. 

He was bored quite a lot, since Hylia had trapped him. He had never wanted this -his only goal was to rid the world of Majora's evil- but apparently his quest to gather the power he needed to defeat him was too frightening for the golden goddess to handle. Thus, the wood. 

The prisoner cracked his neck, wishing for the millionth time that he could remove the full-plate armor that caused his joints to ache. He'd been wearing the same clothing for...he didn't even know how long, and the cramp in his neck was not going away any time soon. 

His twisted sword dragged carefully across the walls of his cell, leaving perfect curves and swirls in its wake. He'd been working at this for what seemed like hours, but didn't know exactly, since time was relative within the containment of this room. The prisoner stabbed the blade into the ringed floor and stepped back to admire his work. 

A smiling face (or rather, what he hoped a face looked like; he only had distant memories to base it off of) stared back at him, surrounded by locks of curled, carved hair. He thought it looked like a woman, but he couldn’t be sure. He hadn't seen a woman in so long it was hard to tell the difference between sexes. 

His memories of the time before were fuzzy at best, and missing at worst. He was pretty sure he'd had some sort of lady friend, but couldn't recall much else other than a melodic laugh and a brunette braid. Maybe she was the person he'd carved into the wall; maybe he had dug up her face from the depths of subconscious. 

He squinted. Unlikely. 

The carving was pretty good, potential memories aside. He'd developed quite a talent for woodwork during his imprisonment, since he hadn't much else to do in this goddess-forsaken room, and it got quite boring with only his sword and the silence to keep him company. 

Even still, one eye seemed higher than the other, the nose was crooked, and the smile was a bit too flat. The tiny details screamed at him, and he deemed the whole thing a failure with a wave of his hand. It was fine, he would restart later once the bark grew back. 

He settled himself down on the hard, familiar floor, leaning back against his carving with a sigh. He would need to wait. 

Running a hand through soft, snowy hair, he closed his equally white eyes. Perhaps he should take a nap. Yes, that sounded nice. A nap would replace the wood with rolling hills and sunny skies, the silence with bird chirps and laughter. Dreams were his refuge and strength in this horrid place, and if he had his way he'd spend _all_ of his time asleep. 

Alas, the goddess had to ruin _that_ as well. 

The sound of steel on steel startled the prisoner from his drowsy state, instantly on his feet with helix sword ready. The noises continued, but there was no battle in sight. 

His eyes widened, those noises must be from _the outside_. 

His only contact with the outside was when someone put on his mask. His previous wearer -Link, he reminded himself- wore him in order to defeat his old foe Majora, and he would be ashamed to admit that his anger and lust for revenge had gotten the better of him. He'd accidentally marked the child in his fury, and such scared him far away from ever calling upon him again. 

Had he changed his mind?

The walls shook, bark falling to the floor as the wood splintered and separated. A large crack wound down the length of his prison, a glowing white doorway between the cell and the mindscape. The clanging noises grew louder, accompanied by a chorus of shouting voices. Someone had put on the mask. He was needed. 

Sheathing the helix blade over his back, the Fierce Deity stepped over the threshold.

…

It happened on Time's watch. 

One minute, all was peaceful. The post-calamity wind blew gently over all of their sleeping forms as the eldest gently wiped a rag over his arsenal of magic face coverings. Four, like his fellow heroes, was fast asleep, allowing his colors to converse inside his head freely as their body slumbered. 

The next, masks scattered across the grass. Bokoblin grunts and lizalfos hisses broke the silence and rudely shattered their hopes of a good night's sleep. Stalfos bones creaked as Time's blade wrenched them in half, the noise rousing the rest of the heroes and spurring them into action. 

The battle wasn't going well. It was too early. They were stiff. They were drowsy. They were _sloppy._

All of these together spell disaster.

" _To the right! We need to have Sky's back!"_

" _No! Left! Hyrule's slowing down!"_

_"Right down the center! Wind's fighting all those lizalfos by himself!"_

_"Shitshitshit PAY ATTENTION!"_

Four's arms ached in protest as they lifted their sword to block a bokoblin swing. These were low-level fighters usually, but there were just _so many_ of them at _three in the morning_ that they were beginning to be overwhelmed. 

His blade slashed downwards and came up black. Lovely. They were infected as well. It was fine. They could do this. They've been in worse situations. As long as they didn't get colossally unlucky they'd be okay. 

" _What have you done."_

Hyrule's sword skittered across the dirt. 

_"You jinxed us."_

Time's shield split down the middle. 

" _I didn't mean to!"_

Wild ran out of arrows and got a club to the face. 

" _You still did, though."_

A stalfos stabbed Sky in the shoulder. 

_"Don't give Red such a hard time."_

Legend and Warriors were buried beneath 'blins. 

" _Yeah, it wasn't his fault. He was only tempting the goddess."_

Twilight and Wind were blocked from view, the dust from the enemy's bomb arrows too thick to see through. 

" _Shut up, guys_ ! _Battle, remember!_ " 

" _Sorry Green, we were just-"_

_"SHIT!"_

A lizalfos wielding a shoddy broadsword caught him in the side, sending Four crashing into the trunk of a tree. The sword that was his namesake flew out of reach. 

Two 'blins and a lizard blocked his weapon from view, closing in around him as he shuffled backwards on hands and knees until he couldn't any longer. The giant oak tree stood at his back, and Vio supplied that there was a good chance that his new wound was poisoned. The others were not faring much better. If they didn't have some sort of miracle soon, they wouldn't last another half-hour. 

He had no weapon, and no reliable backup in sight. Only a tree, some grass, and- 

" _What's that?"_

" _What's what?"_

_"The thing by our foot, what is it?"_

_"It looks like one of Time's masks."_

_"Which one?"_

_"Who cares, just put it on. It can only help us right now."_

The lizalfos hissed in delight, raising his sword above his head with the intent to end his life. Warriors shouted at him from across the battlefield, but there was no way the captain would get there in time.

" _What if it's cursed?"_

_"He would've told us already. Just put it on before we're skewered!"_

" _Fine!"_

Just as the cackling enemy's blade was brought downwards, Four snatched the mask from where it lay in the dirt and slammed it onto his face. 

…

As the Fierce Deity entered the mindscape, his first thought was, " _this isn't Link."_

His second: " _Damn, this place is bright._ " 

A rainbow of color swirled in hypnotic hues around him, blending seamlessly together but still vibrantly standing out. There was no floor, as far as he could see, merely more colors as he stepped onto thin air. Occasionally, sharp geometric shapes -not unlike shards of shattered glass- floated past him lazily, adding to the overall strangeness of this new mind. 

Whoever this was either had some serious issues, incredible self-perception, or both. 

Now, he needed to find the eyes -the window to the soul- and take over. Easy as pie. Hopefully the person who put him on knew what the mask would do, so he wouldn't need to worry about any complications. Not that the hylian would be able to stop him anyways, but he always felt bad if they struggled. 

He didn't have to go very far. A huge mirror stood suspended by nothing in front of what looked like a floating, circular, rainbow rug. Images flashed on the shining surface, a lizard's sword falling in slow motion, and a man in a scarf reaching out towards them from beneath a pile of enemies. 

So these were the enemies he'd need to defeat, and the allies he'd need to protect. It was nice to have these lines clean-cut and obvious. 

He reached a gauntlet out to touch the surface of the glass, which would solidify his control over the mask-bearer. His fingers were mere inches away, when a skeptical, suspicious voice surprised him. "Um, hello? Who are you?" 

The Fierce Deity's eyes widened and he whirled around, only to come face to face to face to face to _face_ with four separate, nearly identical mind-entities. Four of them. In all his years, he'd never been so lucky to have never met so much as _one_ , but here comes _four_ of them, ready to either make his day a living hell or a pleasant dream. 

"Hyrule to stranger! Green asked you a question!" The one in blue growled, arms crossed and glaring. 

"I apologize." The Fierce Deity bowed his head in respect, hoping to appease the mind-entities before they dubbed him an enemy. He could take care of them, of course, but it would be annoying, and might cause irreparable damage to the one wearing the mask. He did not want to do that. "I was not aware there were others here. I am the Fierce Deity, the soul inside the mask you put on." 

"Oh," the blue one looked awkward, "okay then." 

The purple one raised an eyebrow as the red one hid behind him. "What were you doing?" 

How to explain this carefully...

"I was just about to take over the body, so I may demolish the enemies. That is my job." He saw no reason to lie, this was their body, after all. They would know if he lied. "Then I will return to my containment in the mask and leave you all alone again." 

That was his least favorite part, returning. It left him with a feeling of dread just thinking about it. 

"Containment?" The one in green asked, stepping in front of his brothers. 

"Yes." Simply because he wouldn't lie, didn't mean he would elaborate. He turned back to the mirror. "Now, if you would excuse me, I would like to take over now, to make sure you do not perish." 

"Well what if we don't-" The blue one stepped forwards threateningly, but was cut off by the purple one, who grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. 

The violet-clad being nodded, his colorful gaze grim and determined. "Go ahead." He pulled his brother away. "Blue? A word?" 

The four beings huddled together, whispering amongst themselves and occasionally glancing upwards in his direction. The Fierce Deity ignored them, spared a moment longer to admire the outside world, and touched the cold surface of the glass. 

Outside the mindscape, the smithy's eyes blazed a pure white. He swung his new sword with a guttural roar, a beam of energy running down the tip and cleaving the monster in half.

His enemies didn't stand a chance. 

…

Green shot a wary glance at the newly-introduced Fierce Deity, who had his pupil-less eyes closed and his palm pressed against the mirror. They probably shouldn't have let him puppet their body so easily, but something told Green that they wouldn't have been able to stop him anyways. 

He was at least three times their size, with a strange (masterfully crafted) sword that was just as tall as he was. His white hair and blank eyes sent shivers down Green's spine, the heavy, gleaming armor doing nothing to soften his silhouette. The markings of his face -which he could've sword he'd seen before- left an eerie, dreadful feeling in his gut.

All in all, he certainly looked like a fierce deity. 

"I don't like him." Blue grumbled, kicking a tiny shard of glass like a pebble. 

"He's scary." Red agreed, sitting criss-crossed the fuzzy carpet. 

"I don't know what to make of him." Admitted Green, sparing another glance at the tall being by the mirror. "He's just...odd." 

Vio hesitated for a moment, his eyes glued to the back of the deity's head. "He's lonely." 

"Say what now?" 

"Lonely. Him. He's lonely." Vio shrugged, rolling his eyes. "The signs are so obvious I'm surprised _you_ didn't pick up on it." 

Red protested, but was shoved to the side by his growling blue brother. "And what would those signs _be?_ " 

"Yeah, I didn't pick up on anything." Green frowned, eyes flicking back to the deity, who's hand had curled into a fist against the mirror. 

On the surface, Green could see the outside. Rivers of black blood flowed freely around their feet, staining their clothes and matting their -was that _white_ hair? 

He had to admit, the Fierce Deity knew how to get the job done. 

"Well, since you asked so nicely…" Vio scoffed, taking a seat next to Red and crossing his legs. "He seemed surprised when he first spotted us, as if he wasn't used to seeing other people. He was blunt and to the point, like he didn't know how to speak to us. And didn't you see the way he looked at the outside world? He was _longing_ for it." 

He leaned back on his hands, smirking as Blue struggled to connect the dots. "I could go on." 

"He did mention being imprisoned." Red scratched his arm, eyebrows furrowed in a worried manner. 

Blue's answer was left unheard, being merely a series of grumbles under his breath. Green nudged him. "What was that?" 

"So what if he's lonely, it's not our problem." 

Red gasped, shooting to his feet. "Blue! How could you say that!" 

Blue threw his arms up, "It's true! What do I care if he's some prisoner. He's probably in jail for good reason!" 

"He could be framed!" 

"And what am _I_ supposed to do about it?" 

"You know," Vio interrupted Blue and Red's increasingly heated argument. " _We_ could be seen as imprisoned, too, in this body. The only difference is that we have the Four Sword as a key." 

Green shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like thinking about that. 

Vio wasn't done. "Blue, imagine you were stuck here, with us, forever. No splitting, not even any hope of splitting. Just you, me, Red, and Green. _Forever_." 

Blue paled. Red looked horrified. Vio smirked, victorious. 

"Okay, nevermind. We gotta do something, that guy's been through hell." Confessed Blue, ignoring the affronted looks given to him. 

Red stood, eyes determined and sparkling with unshed tears. "We gotta do something!" 

Green turned his gaze back to the deity who didn't seem so fierce anymore. His fist still sat pressed against the glass, shaking slightly as a small frown graced his features and sweat beaded on his brow. 

In the mirror, enemy upon enemy fell to his sword, but the problem wasn't the enemies. The problem was the _allies._ The other heroes had gotten it inside their brain to try and stop them, and they were putting up quite a good fight. Time especially, for some reason. 

Green gulped, and approached the focused man cautiously. The deity didn't seem to realize he was there. He moved closer. Nothing. He jumped and waved a hand in front of his face. Not even a twitch. He turned back to his brothers and shrugged. 

Red sniffled, lip turning out in a pout, and broke out into a dead sprint. He collided with the Fierce Deity's waist, sending them both sprawling to the ground. Outside the mirror, their sword began to slow. 

"What are you doing?" The deity thrashed in Red's tight grip, "Why are you restraining me?" 

"I'm _hugging_ you!" Red cried, squeezing tighter. 

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Oh, that's just sad." Blue scoffed striding up to the tangled mess of a hug and pulling Red away. "That's not a hug." 

"It wasn't?" The deity looked confused. 

" _This_ is a hug!" Blue yelled, grabbing him around the waist and lifting the completely baffled deity off of his feet.

Chuckling softly, Vio patted the deity's leg. "Don't worry, you get used to it after the first few weeks." 

"Few weeks?" They'd completely lost him. 

"Yeah," Green smiled, "We noticed you looked lonely, so we're offering our friendship." 

Blue set him down, panting, and the Fierce Deity looked away with what might be interpreted as a blush across his cheeks. "I...I would like that, thank you-" 

"Yes!" Squealed Red, jumping up in triumph. 

"-but I am afraid I will have to decline." 

"What? Why?" Asked Blue, personally insulted. 

"After the battle -which I should really get back to- I will need to return to my prison to avoid harming your mind. The door will close once you take off the mask." The deity glanced back at the mirror -in which the monsters were finally beginning to thin, and the heroes were turning their attentions toward him. 

"Well that's an easy fix." Vio stated bluntly, walking past with a wave of his hand. "Just don't go back through the door. You're not going to drive us insane or anything, it's too late for that. We have four voices in our head already, what's one more?" 

They hadn't all agreed on this, but they didn't need to. Green liked where this was heading. 

"Besides," Vio cut the Deity off before he could protest. "We'd be in control most of the time anyways, so you wouldn't need to worry about trying to pretend to be us." 

The heroes in the mirror surrounded them, eight swords pointed directly at his throat. The Fierce Deity's worried gaze swapped between the colors' hopeful faces and the heroes' angry ones, indecisivity apparent.

After what seemed like forever, he sighed, a small, unbelievably relieved smile on his face. "I accept." 

…

Four stood in the center of a circle of heroes, his blank eyes staring straight ahead as his white hair blew in the breeze. The markings of the Fierce Deity marred his face, and Time couldn't help the surge of anger he felt at the sight. That was _his boy_ standing there, possessed by a vengeful spirit. 

The helix sword vanished, dissolving into particles, and Four's hands came to rest at his sides. One of them came away bloody, the wound from earlier not having been healed. Eight different swords from eight different wielders pointed at the smallest hero's neck, but he didn't so much as flinch. 

It hadn't taken much to recruit the other's help, explaining exactly why Four looked so strange was more than enough to invoke their wrath. Time's markings burned, sensing the Deity's spirit in another, and he decided enough was enough. "Fierce Deity, leave our friend alone." 

Wind glared at them, Phantom Sword shaking in both fatigue and anger. "Yeah! Leave Four alone!" 

Four blinked. "Four? Is that what they are called?" 

"Yes, now get out of him." Warriors growled, poking Four in the cheek and leaving a small line of blood. 

Four seemed to zone out for a second, then just as Time was about to lunge forwards and take it off himself, he nodded. "Very well." 

Time's one eye narrowed. That was too easy. Legend and Twilight seemed to think so as well, judging by their twin scowls and glares. 

Four brought a hand to his face, and lifted the mask off of it. The wooden covering sat innocently in his hand, but his eyes remained blank. Time's heart stopped. Why was he still there? He should be gone, now, back into his mask where he belonged. 

The Fierce Deity smiled almost sheepishly. "I apologize for our last meeting, Link, I really am. I understand if you wish me ill, but I have to warn you. I am not trapped anymore. I have some new friends now, and I will not be leaving them. This will not be the last time we meet, though I pray that it is under better circumstances." 

Then, Four blinked, and his eyes were blue. As if nothing had ever happened. As if he didn't just fulfill Time's worst nightmare. 

Hyrule rushed forwards with a cry, dropping his sword and calling magic to his fingertips. Four pushed him backwards with a growl, blue eyes blazing and angry for unknown reasons. "Stay back!" He shuffled backwards until he stood against a tree, the mask still clutched in his hands. 

"Four, I need to-" 

"I said _stay back!"_ Four yelled, clutching a hand to his wounded side and swaying. He hissed in pain, growling at anyone who dared get close, and brought the mask out to hold with shaking hands. 

Time felt his chest tighten. "Four, give me the mask." 

His only response was an angry hiss. His knuckles were white against the wood, fingers growing tighter and tighter until- 

**_CRACK_ **!

The Fierce Deity mask split right down the center, two pieces falling from his shuddering hands and hitting the floor with two soft thumps. Four smiled, and Time gawked. 

He had just- did he really- he _did!_

What did that _mean_? 

"Ha!" Four giggled, falling to his knees. "Take that Hylia, you bitch." The nasty wound on his side bled a mixture of red and black, obviously poisoned. As the other heroes scrambled forwards to help the smithy, Four's eyes met Time's and he smiled. "Fuck you, Time, they're ours now." 

That was the last thing he said before he slumped forwards into Sky's arms. 

…

Weeks later, the Fierce Deity had finally begun to accept that _yes, he has friends now._

It was quite the transition. 

For starters, he was almost never bored. Between Blue and Vio's bickering, Green's jokes, and Red's enthusiasm, he didn't have _time_ to be bored.

He wouldn't trade them for anything. 

Blue was an excellent sparring partner and gave incredible hugs.

Red loved telling stories and sitting on his shoulders to feel tall.

Green knew a surprising amount of gossip about both the colors and the heroes and would often ask him to braid his hair. 

He could ask Vio anything and expect a simple, well thought out answer, and they often played a game where he would try and find a question Vio didn't know the answer to. It was harder than it sounded. 

He'd been given the name Deity by the colors, who insisted his full title was too much of a mouthful to say all the time. He had no problems with this, as he'd never considered himself particularly fierce.

Particularly, he loved the mindscape and its endless expanse of color, much more than the confines of his old, wooden prison. If he had his way, he would never leave. 

Which is why Deity surprised even _himself_ when he decided he wanted to use the body. 

"Just for a little bit." He assured Green, who looked surprised. "I want to try and be in control at a time of peace, for once." 

"Oh sure," Green grinned, "You can do it when we set up camp tonight, just make sure you put our hood up." 

Blue appeared on his left, Red in tow. "You got an idea of what you're gonna do? It gets boring sometimes, let me tell you." 

"I'm sure he has something." Vio waved a hand from the rug, where he was reading what looked to be a philosophy book. "He's a god, he can do anything he wants." 

"Well?" Red turned his curious gaze to him, "Do you?" 

Deity smiled. "I might have something in mind." 

…

"Hey Sky?" 

The Chosen Hero looked up from his task at the voice, only to see Four with his hood up standing a few feet away. "Yes Four?" 

"What are you doing?" 

Surprised, Sky showed him the half-finished spoon he'd been carving for wild. He'd been working on it for hours, and had only just been able to whittle it down into the correct shape. 

"Can I try?" Four asked, face overshadowed by his large green hood. "I've had some experience, but I haven't carved anything in a while." 

"Sure!" Sky grinned, too happy that at least someone shared his hobby to be suspicious. "Here, I have an extra knife." 

…

Deity sat in a tree, his new knife dragging across a large, flat piece of bark he'd broken off. Swirls and sharp curves etched themselves into the wood, and he took pleasure in this small revenge. This wood wouldn't grow back, he could cut it into any shape he wished.

" _A little lower, you don't want the eye too far up."_

" _Try making the cheekbones more round, it kinda looks like a guy."_

_"Curve the lips up a bit more, they're a little flat."_

_"No! Don't carve there! That'll make the nose crooked!"_

His friends offered critiques as he worked, steadily improving the quality of his carving as the others went about their business below him, sleeping and sparring and doing what they liked on this fine summer's day. Deity smiled, etching a shadow into the neck. Almost done. 

His memories of the time before were fuzzy at best, and missing at worst. This was okay. He could make new ones.

He wondered if his lady friend would've been proud. He bet she would have. 

A yawn escaped him, he would need to take a nap after this. Yes, a nap sounded good. 

Deity held out the bark to admire his work, cracking his neck (it wasn't in pain!) In the process. A smiling face stared back at him, and a distant memory of a brunette braid flitted across the back of his mind. The tiny details stood out brightly to him, and he deemed the whole thing a masterpiece.


End file.
